Stones in the Road
by Ikkleosu
Summary: Post-Indifference. Caryl-y.
1. Chapter 1

Stones in the Road part 1/?

by Ikkleosu

Caryl fanfiction.

Post- Indifference (4x04). I am trying to make sense of this *^%$$%! story, but there's some part I refuse to even TRY and explain, so make of that what you will.

It was Michonne who spotted it first. They'd pulled up; gas running low and tensions running high. Daryl was sure they all felt the same claustrophobia he did, with the 4 of them in that hot metal can. He could practically feel Bob's breath on the back of his neck. So while Tyresse poured the gas into the tank, Bob paced outside the car nervously, and Michonne leaned against the driver's side casually and they breathed separate are for a moment. Daryl was still turning that jasper stone in his hand, trying to latch on to some thought or feeling that was elusively teasing the back of his mind, when Michonne called out.

"Car!"

They all leapt to attention and looked in the distance where Michonne was pointing. They all saw it, the tell-tale glint of the sun shining on metal; a car was cresting a hill and heading straight in their direction. Daryl estimated they had maybe 2 minutes until they'd be in sight.

Michonne looked straight at Daryl and he knew what she was thinking.

"Could be anyone," he replied to her unspoken statement. It could be the Governor, but it might just as likely be a family needing help or someone passing through.

"What do we do?" Tyresse's voice was low and hushed, as they all looked to Daryl for answers.

"Get this thing out of fuckin' sight. We're just sitting ducks waiting to be picked off. If they don't want no trouble, and just pass on by, we just let them be. We got enough battles right now."

They all nodded and jumped back in the car. Michonne maneuvored it off the road and round the back of an overgrown hedge that was crowding into the road. She switched off the engine and looked to Daryl again. Unspoken, they opened their doors and silently stood behind them as they faced the road; poised with bow and sword, they listened to the engine growl coming closer.

Every muscle in Daryl's body tingled and he sensed the anxiety in Michonne. She wanted it to be the Governor, but how likely was that? Daryl simply didn't want to be spotted. If it was the Governor, he could wait till another day when half their family wasn't a hair's breadth from death, and his make-shift crew weren't all dancing on a knife's edge of anger. Anger didn't make for clear thought. He sensed Bob shifting his weight back and forth behind him, and he felt his own anger rise again. Such a stupid, stupid thing to do. But forgivable, fuck, hell yeah, until you go for your gun. Turning on your own because you're out for yourself that didn't belong in this family. No how.

He knew it was something he had to put on the back-burner for now. And he pushed it from his mind at the unmistakable sound of a car pulling a tight corner round the bend they'd just passed. Michonne raised her sword and Daryl leaned forward, pushing a small gap in the hedge.

He saw the car. It wasn't a jeep; it was just a small, pale car driving at a steady pace along the deserted track. The sun reflected off the windshield and he couldn't see who was driving, or how many occupants it had.

He held up a finger to the others, holding them in readiness, as the car passed them by. It passed in a flash and yet that was enough time. His body sagged and he sensed Michonne looking at him in confusion.

"What you see?" Tyresse whispered.

Daryl looked back in the direction the car had come from until he was sure there was no other vehicle following, before turning back to the others.

"It was Carol," he said, the confusion clear in his voice.

"What she doing out here? Who was she with?" Bob spoke for the first time since Daryl had shouted him down.

"She was alone. The car was empty."

"What in hell?" Michonne sheathed her sword and put her hands on her hips. "What's going on that Carol's out here? Is she looking for us?"

Daryl had no answers, and a million scenarios ran through his mind, none of them good.

"We gotta catch her." Daryl leapt into the driver's seat as he spoke and the others instantly followed. He tore the car around, taking chunks of the hedge with him, and speeded after her.

it didn't take long to catch her up. Although she sped up as their vehicles came into line of sight, his driving experience gave him the edge and he was quickly pulling up beside her.

He wound the window down and waved his arm to her to stop.

"Carol! Carol! It's me! What's going on?! Stop!"

Her eyes had been firmly on the road ahead, clearly trying to ignore him, but his movement caught her eye and she turned. Daryl's blood ran cold at the look on her face when she recognised him. She looked horrified, scared and her face was red and blotchy.

He was afraid she'd pull away, but he nudged the car gently and forced her to pull to a stop. As he approached the car, he was surprised to see Carol had failed to move. She was still behind the wheel, her hands gripping it firmly as her head was dipped.

They all saw it.

"Is she sick?" Tyresse called from across the car.

"Carol! Carol! What's going on?" Daryl tried to open her car door and found it locked. She didn't move.

"Are you sick? What's happening? Why you out here?" Daryl continued as he pounded his fist on the driver side window.

Still she didn't flinch.

"Carol! Open up. Let me in! Is it the Governor?"

That got a reaction. She shook her head firmly but still wouldn't look up.

"Has she been bit? Walkers? Another breach?" Michonne offered from over Daryl's shoulder. Daryl leaned on Carol's car and put his face close to the glass.

"Was there a breach? Are you bit?" Again she shook her head but didn't look up.

This close up Daryl could see there were no obvious signs she was sick, but she looked like she had been crying for some time. He looked into the back-seat for clues. No-one there; no blood, no mess, Just some supplies and a sleeping bag. Something was so horribly wrong his mind couldn't even fathom what it was.

"Carol, please," he dropped his voice and tone, pleading with her. "Open up, it's me. What's goin' on?"

Finally she uncurled her white fingers from the wheel and opened the window. She looked up at him and his heart broke. The expression was something he remembered only too well. It was the one he'd seen haunt her face after Sophia walked out of the barn.

"Please, Daryl, don't. Just leave me. Go back to the prison. Leave me be."

"What's happened? The prison, is everyone else...?" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Did you get the medication Hershel wanted?" she asked, her voice wavering.

He nodded.

"Everyone's okay, or as okay as they were when you left," she continued. "But they won't be for long. You've got to get that medication to them, please hurray. Lizzie, Sasha, Glen, Caleb. Please, just go."

For the first time she looked him in the eye. She was begging him. Her soul laid bare in her expression. Daryl was terrified, awash in a sea of confusion with seaweed threads of fears wrapping round his ankles weighing him down.

"You're following us though, right?" he asked, sensing he already knew the answer.

"Daryl, please, just go. They need you." Her voice was becoming harder, stronger.

"I ain't goin' no place until you tell me what's going on," he exclaimed, and pounded his fist on the roof of the car. She leapt at his action, and he saw tears spring down her cheeks.

"Daryl...don't. I can't... I can't... "

He couldn't take it anymore and he whipped round to the others who were standing silently behind him looking as confused as he felt.

"Go on ahead. Take the meds. We'll follow you."

The others looked confused, but Michonne nodded and got back in the driver's seat. Tyresse threw Daryl's pack and bow across the top of the car, and looked with a furrowed brow at him. Daryl just nodded.

As their car pulled away he heard Carol sob and saw she'd buried her face in her hands.

He was totally lost. He wasn't fucking Dr Phil and had no idea how to pull something out of someone who doesn't want to speak. Something horrific had happened, and he wanted desperately to get to the prison and do whatever was needed but he couldn't leave her like this; wouldn't leave her like this.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine. When we left, nothing had changed." Carol's voice surprised him as she'd seemed to pull herself together in a moment. He felt like the picture of her he'd just seen was a figment of his imagination, as she opened her door and climbed out of the car. He found himself looking her over. No wounds, no blood, no mud, nothing.

"Where were you going? Were you lookin' for us? Why are you out here on your own?" he questioned.

Carol rubbed her palms on her thighs and tried to avoid looking at him.

"Why couldn't you just let me go?" she sighed, resignation in her voice. "It was clean and simple, now… I thought he'd never tell you. I thought it would just be an end and everyone could move on."

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" He yelled, angry at her vague statements and un-Carol-like behaviour. He'd never known her not to reach out to him, to touch him, gravitate towards him, welcome him with her smile. Now she was closed to him and it scared him more than some fuckin' flu.

She sighed, seeming to compose herself more before finally looking at him.

"I killed Karen and David."


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl suddenly wished for her silence again. He felt like he had travelled back to a couple of minutes ago, pounding on the glass between them, not knowing what was on the other side.

"What?"

"I did it. I killed them. I thought it would stop the virus spreading. They were the only ones infected. They were dying already. I thought if I killed them, burnt the virus in the only hosts it had, there'd be no place else for it to go and we'd all be fine." She was much calmer now, surer.

Daryl threw his hands in the air and staggered away from her subconsciously.

"Fuck! Fuck! What were you thinkin?! We're all exposed. Fuck, there's walkers across the whole county with blood pouring out their eyes like fuckin' Niagra. You can't stop this."

"I thought I could," she replied flatly to his outrage.

They stood in silence for a moment as he tried to comprehend her words.

"Were they turnin?" He hoped there was some corner or edge of this he could grab on to; to understand it and expose the full meaning.

"No, but it wouldn't be long before they were. Patrick was barely sick at sundown, and by 6am he'd turned 2 people. The same thing would have happened again," she explained.

"We don't know that, you don't know that! Why'd you take that decision on yer self? Why didn't you ask Hershel, or Rick?"

"More time. It just would have wasted more time."

She leaned back against the car now, looking more relaxed as she defended her stance.

Daryl was lost for words. He couldn't believe this was the same woman who didn't even want a part in discussing what would happen to Randall back at the farm.

"I did it for Lizzie and Mika," she added. "They're my responsibility now, I couldn't stand by and see a threat take them out, don't you understand?"

"No, I don't. I fuckin' don't. Why you? Why did you have to do it?"

"Who should have done it? You?" She spat back. "Do you know what it was like for me standing on that highway; sitting in that RV; watching you and the others risk your lives to find Sophia? I couldn't do anything, ANYTHING. All I could do was cry and wait and be a burden and a risk. I couldn't go through with it again. It was my decision, my risk to take. Something needed doing and I did it, for probably the first time."

"But kill them? We didn't know they were a threat, we didn't know it migha turned out fine."

He was searching her face now, trying to find the Carol he knew under this hard decision maker.

"We didn't know if Andrew was a threat, and look what happened? We lost Lori and T, because we waited to see. This isn't a world for waiting. It's a world for acting; taking the chance however horrible that may be. You know that. You don't wait with your bow. You fire as soon as you've got the threat in your sites."

She paused and he could see her formulating something.

"If Rick or Andrea had taken the Governor out when they had the chance, Merle would still be here," she said quietly.

"Don't you dare, don't you fuckin' dare!" He sprang at her, his finger close to her face, his spit landing on her still damp cheeks. But she didn't flinch, and suddenly he flashed back to Hershel's farm, when he'd unleashed on her and she'd barely moved. It shocked him. She was so full of love and gentleness; he forgot her spine of steel.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly after he lowered his finger and rocked back away from her. "I shouldn't have said that. But that's what Lizzie and Mika feel like to me; they're my family. I had to take better care of them than I did Sophia."

Daryl looked at her in askance. Whatever she had done now, whatever had happened to Sophia, no one could say she didn't take care of her girl.

"You was a fine mom, you know it. She was a good girl," he replied quietly, his rage ebbing away with the memory of the sweet, blonde girl who gave him shy, wary smiles.

"But was she a happy one?" Carol shot back. "I thought as long as she had a nice clean house, home-cooked food, good-schooling, and me to tuck her in every night it was all she needed. I thought I kept her safe, kept her protected. I didn't. I thought if I kept her close, told her to be careful crossing roads, not to climb trees, not to talk to strangers; I thought I was keeping her safe. But the threat was in our house. He was in the lounge chair, in the kitchen, in her bedroom…"

Carol's voice broke then, and tears flowed again.

"The threat was there. I let it fester and grow and infect everything in our home," she spat through angry tears. "And I didn't do a thing to stop it. I couldn't let it happen to Lizzie and Mika. I had to stop the threat. I had to stop it spreading!"

Finally she sank to the ground, burying her head in her hands, sobbing like she had in the car.

Daryl stood a foot or so away and looked down at her. He didn't know fully why she'd done it, probably she wouldn't either, but he understood what drove her to it. He understood the helplessness, the lack of control in your own life and the need to snatch it back in any way you could. He wasn't proud of a lot of things he'd done before… before now, and he didn't always understand what made him do it, but he was smart enough to know a lot of it was to do with his Dad and Merle and the scars on his back. He was pretty sure Carol had the same scars.

He slid down beside her; sitting on the road with his back against the car. After her sobs had quietened, he spoke.

"Whatever ya did, like you said, we're all family. They'll understand. We need ya back there, everybody needs ya. Ain't no good running away."

"I wasn't running away. Rick sent me," she said, finally looking out from her hands.

"Sent ya? To fetch us?"

Now the anger had settled and a picture was starting to form of what was going on, Daryl suddenly came back to the original question. Why was she out here alone?

Carol shook her head and looked at him with her clear blue eyes red rimmed and scared.

"No. He sent me away. He told me to leave. He wouldn't have me back there knowing what I'd done."

"He fuckin' WHAT?" Daryl sprang to his feet again, as if Rick was there in front of him.

"What else could he do, Daryl?" Carol pleaded. "I killed 2 people. He can't condone that. Tyresse would have killed you and Rick there and then, if he could. He won't let me just carry on serving up his dinner and standing by him on watch when I killed his girlfiend."

He couldn't believe she was defending Rick. They had all made tough choices, some good, some not so good, but no-one was lily-white and Rick sure as hell was a shade of grey like the rest of them.

"He coulda dealt with it. WE coulda dealt with it. Isn't that what we do now? We decide things as a group."

"I didn't," Carol replied softly.

Daryl looked down at her with such exasperation. There she was arguing her piece with him; defending her right to kill to protect her people, but she just meekly let Rick banish her like a bad dog?

"Ya did what ya thought was right. Rick shoulda known that. He knows ya. We know ya. Ya wouldn't do anything unless ya thought it was for the best." He spoke directly to her face and for the first time since they'd pulled over, her face changed. He saw hope.

She stood up and gave him a tight smile.

"Thank you," she said with deep gratitude, and reached out to lightly touch her fingertips to the leather covering his arm.

This was Carol. This was his Carol. What she'd done she could come back from, they all could. Rick had taken Merle in because he was Daryl's brother, it didn't matter what he'd done in Woodbury or before. Rick had understood Merle had done it to survive, he would understand it with Carol. He would.

"He's not thinkin' straight, with all that's goin' on. He's just blind-sided. He'll come round. Give him time. We'll go back and explain. It'll be fine."

"No." Carol's answer was hard, and her face set again. "He made his decision. And even if he changed his mind, what about Tyresse? He barely knew me before this. He's got no reason not to just kill me. At least this way, I have a chance to live, to redeem myself maybe, with some new group someplace…"

"No!" It was Daryl's turn to burn the thought down. There was no way he'd let Carol go off and never know what happened to her, never know what might have been…. Never… No, he refused to even give it room in his brain. "I can deal with Tyresse."

Carol gave a small laugh.

"Weren't you listening?" she said gently. "I won't have other people dealing with my problems anymore. They're MY problems, and I'll deal with the consequences. I've had enough people risking their lives for me. I won't let you do it again. You risk your lives all the time for these people. Every day you go out there. They need you more than they need me. I won't let you risk it for me. I'll take the risk, I'll be out here. My risk; my consequence."

"Don't ya get it? Don't ya get why I do it?" Daryl gesticulated wildly towards her again. "I do it so you don't have it. I do it so you'll be safe. I do it for the same reason you did what you did, to Karen and David. You're family. You're my family. I do it for Lizzie and Mika, just like you, because I don't want them to be without you. I don't want to be without you."

Carol's face was softening with his every agitated word, as he pounded his chest with his fist.

"I been there. I don't want them to feel what I felt. I'm no fool, I know my place. I bring food, I bring supplies, but if I fall there's others to take my place. There's no one like you. I do it, so you don't have to, so they can have you as long as possible," he repeated.


	3. Chapter 3

Stones in the Road part 3/3

He watched her face crack as she brought her hand up to her throat, looking at him like he'd just given her a million bucks.

"I don't want to be without you… I don't want to be without any of you, but there's nothing I can do. I made this move. I can't wish it away or fix it with a venison hide. I have to go. I have to."

She sat back down in the driver's seat but didn't close the door, or make to go. She just sat there. Daryl stuck his hands in his pocket and paced about, his quiver empty of arrows and his arms tired after opening himself to her and achieving nothing. That was when he felt the jasper stone, hiding in the corner of his pocket. He rubbed his fingers over the smooth surface, felt the jagged edges and rough spots.

"What about Lizzie and Mika?" he finally asked.

"Rick was right. I can't take them out on the road. It's not fair to them. They're better off where they are. There are people there who'll take care of them, do what's right."

"You just gonna walk away from them like this? Not even fight to go back to them?" Daryl wasn't angry now, but he wanted to provoke her; get her to realise that this was no solution to a fucked up situation. It was just heaping more shit on top of it.

"Daryl, please. I can't fight. I've nothing to fight with. I'm glad I got to see you and explain but this is the way it has to be."

She pulled the car door closed and went to start the engine. In a flash Daryl leapt across the hood and opened the passenger door. She looked at him angrily, as he jumped into the car beside her.

"Fine. Then ya ain't going without me."

"Don't be stupid!" she exclaimed. "Let me go. They need you there. There's so many sick people. They need your strength, your leadership. They look to you. I don't belong there anymore."

Daryl put his knees up against the dash and made to get comfortable. He was relieved to see she'd taken her hand off the ignition.

"All those people, huh? All those Woodbury people?" Daryl answered casually.

Carol turned to him confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Those Woodbury people who stood around cheering while Merle beat lumps outta me and walkers bit at our heels? Those Woodbury people that Rick and Maggie and Oscar and me shot at and killed? There's people in those cells right now that lost their kin that day. They were just people protecting what they had, what they knew as home and defending it from a threat and they lost their lives at our hands; at my hands. They ain't bitchin' and whinin' they don't belong. And I ain't spitting in their stew every day. We all do what we gotta do to get through the day, and we all gotta put it behind us. And next day we get up new and we start again."

Carol didn't answer. She started ahead silently, her hands resting on the steering wheel lightly.

"I went too far. I thought I was doing what was best, but in that minute I stopped caring. I stopped caring that it was Karen that would joke with me about Tyresse's singing, while we cooked, or David who liked to tell me crummy jokes in the halls. What if it had been Carl or Glenn or you that was sick? Would I have done it then? How could I live with myself?"

Her voice was wavering and unsure. Daryl wished for the angry assertive Carol who had defended her actions. He wanted her to stand her ground again; fight for this; but he knew she'd done that for him. She'd fought to make him understand, and now; now was when she doubted herself. It was what they did. He cared most that she understood him, and he realised she felt the same. And only with her would he let her see the side of him he tried to hide, the scared, unsure self he hated.

For so long that was all anyone saw of Carol; a timid mouse who didn't know her mind, but he knew better. He knew she was more than that. He knew how strong she was. And that was the face she kept up for everyone at the prison now – warm, generous but strong. He liked that she still came to him when the façade slipped, but he didn't like it now. He needed fighter Carol back.

As the silence fell in the car again when he failed to give her an answer, Daryl remembered the stone in his pocket. He fished it out and rolled it in his hand.

After a moment, he nudged Carol's hand that was still resting on the wheel. He shyly pulled her fingers from the wheel and placed the stone into her palm, while he felt her eyes on him.

"It's a jasper stone," he said as Carol inspected it, holding it up to the fading light. "Mrs Richards asked me to look out for one, she wants it to mark her old man's grave."

Carol said nothing but rubbed her fingers over it the same way he had.

"It's meant to bring peaceful sleeps and good dreams. An' she said it represents balance, and that was what her husband was for her. She was always stressin' and worryin' and he'd tell her it's all be all right, but he had a temper shorter than her skirt and she'd be the one calmin' him down. They balanced each other; stopped each other being their worst."

Carol nodded at Daryl's story.

"That's what marriage should be," Carol said quietly, still inspecting the stone.

"You know, Rick only took on Merle 'cos he was my brother. He told me flat out, he's my responsibility. If he puts a hair wrong, it's on me."

Carol turned to him now, seeming to sense where his train of thought was going.

"I did it for Merle, he's family, I loved him. I'd do it for you."

Daryl looked at his dirty shoes pressing against the dash. He was afraid to look at her, afraid he'd put his foot in it. Then he felt Carol's hand nudging against his arm.

"I can't ask you to do that for me…" She was trying to give him the stone back.

He pulled his arm away from her, sharply.

"You ain't askin', I'm tellin'" he grumbled.

She laid her hand on his arm. He could feel the warmth through the leather.

"I told you, it's my responsibility. If I deal with it, I deal with it myself. I don't know that Tyresse would kill a woman, but he sure as hell'd kill you."

Daryl shrugged in response.

"Let him try. I ain't saying I'm your pardoner, that ain't down to me. I'm just sayin' … I'm your jasper. You start heading to crazy town, I'm gonna pull your ass back. You done it for me enough."

Carol smiled at that and rubbed his arm gently before removing her hand. Daryl could sense he was winning.

"So, what do we do? Go back and I say my Hail Rick's and everything's okay?" She was still smiling at him.

"Naw. There's enough shit hitting the fan back there, people are gonna be distracted. We do what we do. They'll respect that. Rick'll respect it eventually. He'll just take some time. Meantime, I'm your jailer, and if you try to run or take out that knife again, I'll put a bolt in your ass mysel'"

Carol suddenly looked more hopeful than he'd seen her in days. She looked around the car.

"We could do a lot of good back there. I can help Hershel, do whatever needs to be done. Or just sit in a locked cell, as long as I get to be with Lizzie and Mika."

Daryl gave her a half smile back. She noticed it, and he blushed a little. Carol put her hands back into the driving position, and sat herself upright into the seat again, ready to go.

"Whatever happens, it's worth it. As long as I've got my girls," she said resolutely.

Daryl nodded and pulled himself into a more upright position.

"As long as I've got my jasper," Carol continued, not looking at him, before popping the stone into her shirt pocket.

He felt such a rush of relief and a feeling of going home that he hadn't realised he'd been missing until its return. He reached over and placed his hand on top of hers on the steering wheel. He squeezed her hand gently, and he felt her hand move and squeeze his in return before she reached down to start the ignition.

If she verged too close to the edge of the road again, he'd steer her back - that's what jasper did for you.

Author's note: thank you for reading and remember, send Kirkman your therapy bills. :D


End file.
